Locked
by DrawMeASheep
Summary: COMPLETE. The team investigates the death of a petty officer. Criminal details and team banter abound. Dentists get violent and Tony enjoys the day handcuffed to his chair.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah, Bellisario-cakes.

Spoilers: Nah.

Summary: Casefile-ish. The team works to solve the murder of a petty officer. Tony is frustrated because he's chained to his desk for most of the case. No, really.

* * *

Petty Officer Elizabeth Healey crouched on the floor next to her bed, struggling to open the lockbox where she kept her .22. The key was sticking, refusing to turn. She felt her level of panic rising. The gun wasn't even loaded. She hadn't fired it in years. She decided she wasn't even going to bother with the bullets. If she ever got the damn gun out of the damn box, of course.

A crash came from somewhere outside her bedroom door. It sounded like whoever had broken into her home had just knocked the lamp off the hallway table. _That was from my grandmother's house_, she thought, her panic beginning to turn into anger as she managed to pry the metal lid open. _What kind of idiot breaks into someone's house at four in the afternoon when their car is parked in the driveway, anyway?_

The gun felt clumsy and unfamiliar in her hands as she raised it, concentrating on holding it steady as she aimed at the door. The knob turned excruciatingly slowly. "Don't open the door," she called out, hoping her voice sounded more intimidating to the person on the other side of the door than it did in her own ears. "I'm warning you. I am armed and I will not hesitate to shoot you."

Her fingers dug into the cold metal of the gun as she gripped it tighter, watching the door open. "I'm not going to…" she stopped abruptly as she recognized the person in the doorway. She allowed her gun to drop heavily to her side. "You scared the bejesus out of me. Why didn't you just knock?"

She received no reply. She could only gasp as the figure raised a weapon and fired. As the world faded to black, she tried to focus on the white sneakers, partially concealed by blue scrubs, standing in front of her face.

* * *

Gibbs walked through the front door of the suburban Bethesda home; everywhere he looked he saw floral prints. Glancing through the kitchen toward the back door, it was easy to spot McGee in his black windbreaker, photographing a marker he had placed on the floor. "Anything interesting?"

"Well, I, uh, found what looks like a footprint entering the house. I'll print the back door. Doesn't look like it was forced."

"One more reason to always lock your doors. Make sure you go through the backyard."

"Yeah, boss. What exactly am I looking for?"

"Evidence, McGee," Gibbs threw over his shoulder, striding away, following the sound of familiar voices drifting from the bedroom.

"I'm just saying that they was obviously _something_ wrong with her."

"So maybe the décor is a bit excessive, but that doesn't mean there was something wrong with her, Tony."

"Excessive? Laura Ashley's house is more tasteful than this."

"Have you two found anything that doesn't reflect your experience in interior decorating?"

Tony and Ziva immediately snapped to attention at the sound of Gibbs' voice. "We found a gun next to the body, boss."

"But it isn't the murder weapon." Ziva held up a bag containing a .22. "It hasn't been fired and it wasn't even loaded. Lockbox and unopened box of ammunition were on the bed. Perhaps she heard someone in the house and attempted to defend herself."

"With an unloaded gun, Officer David?"

"Petty Officer Healey was a dental hygienist at the dental clinic at Bethesda. From what I have encountered among the medical staff in your military, there seems to be a lack of combat training. She may have thought she could frighten a burglar by brandishing a weapon, not anticipating that she would have cause to fire it."

"Except that she was not, in fact, being burgled, Zee-vah." Tony ignored his partner's glare as he continued, "Nothing appears to be missing, boss. Jewelry, cash, purse, electronics, all still here. Doesn't even look like anything is out of place. Every last doily accounted for."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows, prompting Tony to add, "But that doesn't matter if the guy knew what he was looking for." He clicked a few photos with no regard to the direction of the camera. "No idea how that helps us…"

"Unless her friends or co-workers have some insight to offer when we talk to them." Ziva unceremoniously elbowed Tony out of her way and held up two glass jars for Gibbs to examine. "We also found a .38 shell casing by the door and we pulled a bullet from the wall over the nightstand."

Gibbs looked briefly at the small hole surrounded by an explosion of blood before turning his attention to the body lying in a red stain on the pink carpet. "Ducky, what've we got?"

"Gunshot to the chest, Jethro. Died instantly, I'd say." Dr. Mallard contorted his body, trying to look under the body without moving it. "From the splatter on the wall and the pooling around the body, I suspect we'll find quite the exit wound. A quick death, but unpleasant, my dear," he sighed, addressing the dead petty officer.

Gibbs ignored the aside. "Time of death?"

"Judging by her liver temperature, I'd say she's been dead no longer than an hour and a half."

"Fits with our witness statements."

Ziva glanced at her notepad. "Those kids we saw playing basketball next door?"

"They hear a gunshot, find out their neighbor's been murdered and go back to shooting hoops?" Jimmy Palmer asked, glad for an opportunity to enter the conversation before being sent to fetch a gurney.

"You just don't understand basketball, Palmer," Tony sighed, letting his camera hang around his neck as he grasped an imaginary ball. "You've gotta dedicate yourself to practice. You've gotta ignore all distractions and drive down the lane, take the contact, draw the foul, make the lay-up." He abruptly stopped acting out his monologue as he felt a familiar smack on the back of his head. "Sorry boss."

"Why don't you go talk to these dedicated gamers, DiNozzo."

"Oh, not a good idea boss. I mean one of them had a Duke sweatshirt on…." He tried to ignore Ziva's snort of laughter immediately following the sound of the second smack. "On it boss."

"Ziva, bag the lockbox and ammo, then go help McGee in the back."

* * *

McGee leaned over the chain link fence, squinting across the busy street at a strip mall, two gas stations and three fast food restaurants. He wondered if they'd be lucky enough to find some security footage at either of the gas stations that had some angle of his side of the street. "Find anything?"

He jumped, almost losing his hat in the low branches of a tree. "Now I know how Tony feels."

"Sorry, McGee. I wasn't _trying_ to sneak up on you." Ziva smiled smugly. "Did you find anything?"

"As a matter of fact I did." It was Tim's turn for a smug grin. He held up an evidence bag. "Found this piece of fabric caught on the fence. I think our killer may have torn something as he hopped the fence on his way out."

"Or in."

"Well, yeah, I guess."

She was staring at the row of businesses across the street. "Gibbs will want us to talk to everyone in all those places."

"Better tell him so we can get started."

"Fun way to spend a Friday night, McGee, yes?"

* * *

Tony was quickly remembering why he disliked twelve-year-olds. "I know you gave a statement to the police, but just do me a favor and go over it again for me."

The shorter of the two boys gave a long-suffering groan and shot the ball, barely making contact with the backboard. Tony resisted the urge to critique his poor mechanics, looking instead to the taller boy, "Five minutes and you can go back to one-on-one. Tell me what you saw and heard."

"Uh, got off the bus around 3:45, threw my backpack in the house, grabbed my ball and met Brett out here. We shot around for maybe five, ten minutes. Heard a loud pop." He shrugged, brushing his hair off his forehead and gesturing to his friend for the ball.

Tony stepped into the passing lane. "And a steal for DiNozzo." He palmed the ball briefly, frowning at its rubbery feel, before balancing it between his hip and forearm. "You see anyone going into or coming out of the house?"

"Nope."

"Any cars parked outside?"

"Just Miss Healey's."

"Anything at all out of the ordinary."

"Dude, we didn't see anything," the shorter boy, Brett, said, trying to punch the ball away from Tony.

Turning quickly to protect the ball, he nearly collided with Ziva. "Are you almost done here?"

"Yeah, we're finished." He turned back to the boys, holding his card out for one of them to take. "Call me if you remember anything else."

"Yeah, whatever," the taller one replied, pocketing the business card. "Can we have our ball back?"

Tony casually dribbled a few paces before turning and shooting, holding his arm in his follow through position until the ball exited the bottom of the net. He winked at Ziva as they walked toward the truck. "Swish."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

McGee leaned his head against the elevator wall. They'd spent almost three hours the previous night interviewing unhelpful employees from the businesses within view of their dead petty officer's house, and then returned to NCIS to learn that she'd died from a gunshot wound to the chest. Gibbs had sent the team home knowing nothing they couldn't have figured out from looking at a photograph of the woman's bedroom.

The elevator dinged. McGee took a deep breath and tightened his grip on his coffee in preparation for a long day. He could already hear Tony and Ziva arguing in the squad room.

"Hey, shooting free throws in the clutch is a highly desirable skill. I'd rate it up there with any of your stealth ninja moves." Tony tilted his chair back and laced his fingers behind his head.

"So…given the choice you would rather throw a ball through a ring than, say, get out of a pair of handcuffs." She started toward him, twirling a jingling set of restraints around her index finger. "Morning, McGee," she added, not looking at him as he passed behind her.

Tony gulped quickly. "Well, that would really depend on the situation." He watched her carefully as she leaned against the file cabinet. "In the Final Four, down by one with five ticks on the clock, I'd definitely go with the free throws."

McGee heard a rapid series of clicks and snapped his head around. Tony wore a shocked expression and a silver bracelet around his left wrist. McGee snickered as he saw the chain leading to the second bracelet, fastened to the arm of Tony's chair. Ziva was already seated at her desk. She imitated Tony's relaxed posture from a few minutes previous. "Swish."

He pulled at the chain several times, trying to extricate himself by force. "Okay, funny. Now unlock me before Gibbs sees."

"Sees what, DiNozzo?" Tony turned his chair quickly, hiding his trapped left hand under his desk as Gibbs strode purposefully into the bullpen. "What do we know?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing, McGee?"

"Uh, nothing yet?" McGee tried.

"Then why aren't you downstairs looking through Healey's computer?" Gibbs turned toward his two remaining agents as McGee scampered away. "Is there some reason you aren't on your way to the dental clinic at Bethesda?"

"It's Saturday, Gibbs. The staff doesn't get in for another hour. I've spoken to," Ziva paused as she checked her computer, "a Dr. Lansing. He directs personnel at the clinic and he said the same rotation of dentists and assistants is on today that was working yesterday."

"Anything else?"

"Nothing new yet."

"Really, DiNozzo? I don't remember you being cuffed to your chair when I left last night."

"Maybe you should ask our resident bondage expert, boss."

Ziva didn't miss a beat. "It is my fault, Gibbs. Tony was noting how escaping from a pair of handcuffs wasn't a valuable skill. I merely wanted to demonstrate his error."

Gibbs sipped his coffee as he considered the two agents, who were now having a silent conversation with a series of facial expressions. He shook his head. "Officer David, with me. We'll see if any of our dentists get to work early."

"What about me, boss?"

"Stay here and run down her phone and bank records while you figure out how you're gonna get those cuffs off, DiNozzo."

"One-handed?"

Ziva stepped closer to his desk, her backpack slung over one shoulder, dangling the keys to the handcuffs enticingly in front of him. "I'm sure you'll think of something you can do with one hand, Tony." Laughing as he made an unsuccessful grab for the keys, she turned toward the elevator, sure that he was watching as she slid the keys into the back pocket of her jeans.

Tony tried not to imagine her self-satisfied smile as he called after her, "You're a sick chick, David." He yanked on the chain several times, drawing the attention of someone walking past. He smiled sarcastically. "Training exercise."


	3. Chapter 3

Gibbs pressed the accelerator to the floor as he rounded a corner. He glanced to his right, noting that Ziva had a tight grip on the roll bar over the door, her lips pressed together in a tight line. "I thought you liked driving fast, Officer David."

"Driving, yes. Riding…not. As. Much." Her tone was clipped, as if she were biting each word, taking out her aggression on what she was saying rather than the car's driver.

Gibbs grinned slightly as he turned another corner at a higher-that-necessary velocity. "You don't trust me?"

"Trust and centrifugal force are two entirely different things, Gibbs."

They arrived safely at the dental clinic ten minutes later. Gibbs pulled the handle of the main door, shaking it in frustration as he realized it was locked.

Ziva was already pulling her picks from her pocket. "How eager are you to see the dentist, Gibbs?"

"That won't be necessary," he replied, waving emphatically to a woman he saw walking through the waiting room. She gestured for them to wait. Gibbs turned back to Ziva. "How come you didn't leave those with DiNozzo?"

"At Moussad we learned by doing. Tony is getting an educational experience. He'll have to improvise. I'm sure he has some pen caps or paperclips under the stacks of magazines in his desk."

Gibbs shook his head, making a special effort not to smile. The woman inside was finally approaching and unlocking the door. "I guess someone must have a big toothache," she said in a patronizing tone. "I can let you into the waiting room, but it's going to be at least…" she broke off as Gibbs flashed his badge.

"We need to speak with whoever is in charge here."

The woman froze, blocking the doorway. "Oh my. I knew the health department was coming, but you weren't expected until next week and most of the staff isn't even in yet, and…"

"We're NCIS, not health inspectors," Gibbs interrupted. "Feel free to drop whatever you want on the floor."

The woman replied with a bewildered stare.

"Dr. Lansing is expecting us," Ziva prompted.

The mention of a familiar name seemed to spur the woman to move. "Oh, yes. Of course. Please come in." She led them hurriedly past the reception desk and into the treatment area. She tried to hard to be casual as she asked, "So what does NCIS want with us on this fine Saturday morning?"

"I doubt it's anything you need to concern yourself with, Sheila." A stout man in gold-rimmed glasses and a white lab coat appeared in the doorway of an office. "Why don't you check the sterilizer while I speak to the agents?" The woman moved slowly down the hall, looking reluctant to leave without satisfying her curiosity as he shut the door. "I'm Dr. Phillip Lansing, general dentist and director of personnel here at the Bethesda dental clinic."

Gibbs extended his hand. "I'm Agent Gibbs, this is Officer David."

Lansing shook hands, smiling amiably and indicating a sofa against the wall to Gibbs and Ziva. He sat in a chair across from them. "Officer David was not very forthcoming on the phone, but I suspect this isn't just about our recent internal problems."

Ziva stopped mentally cataloguing the room as her gaze snapped back to Lansing. "What kind of problems?"

"We've been having some…" he paused as he swallowed significantly, "_difficulties_ lately."

"That doesn't answer my question, Doctor."

Lansing was beginning to get flustered. He removed his glasses, wiping them with his coat as he stammered, "I-I-I don't want to blow anything out of proportion."

Gibbs slapped his notebook on the coffee table littered with various books and medical journals and a small dish of candy. "One of your hygienists was murdered, Doctor. I suggest you leave the proportions to us."

Lansing jumped in the act of sliding his glasses behind his ears. "Murdered?!" He fumbled blindly for the glasses, which had fallen under the coffee table. Neither agent moved to assist him.

"So, these, _difficulties_…"

"For God sakes, this is just a dental clinic, Agent Gibbs." Lansing was furiously rubbing the glasses he had just recovered. "We're talking about missing equipment, mostly. Nothing like…" he stopped. His voice took on a note of quiet panic as he asked, "Who?"

"Petty Officer Elizabeth Healey." Gibbs gave the dentist a moment to absorb the information before asking, "How well did you know her?"

Lansing continued to fiddle with his glasses, not making eye contact as he replied, "She's been working here for about a year or so. She's always on time, always does her job well. Everybody gets along with her." He looked up suddenly, alarmed. "Who would hurt her?"

"That's what we intend to find out."

* * *

Ziva checked her watch as they left the clinic three hours later. She'd spoken to more than ten dentists, hygienists and assistants and gotten the same report from all of them regarding Healey: hard worker, nice girl, no enemies. The majority of interviewees had been women. Weepy women. She sighed, wondering why anyone would join the military unprepared to lose colleagues to violence. Healey hadn't died in combat, of course, but she was still in the Navy…

"Something bugging you, Officer David?" Gibbs sounded frustrated.

"Oh, it's nothing…"

"Spit it out, Ziva."

Unwilling to disclose her true thoughts, she fixed on a minor detail that had been bothering her. "Lansing is a dentist, right?"

"You think he's our guy?"

"No," she said slowly. She paused to think for a moment. "I do think we need to look carefully at his relationship with Petty Officer Healey."

Gibbs knitted his eyebrows together. "I know you're not gonna tell me it's your gut."

"His grammar, actually. He talked to us about the petty officer in the present tense for almost twenty minutes after we told him about her murder. Loved ones often do that unconsciously to avoid thinking about the fact that the person is dead."

He nodded. "Not bad. I guess all those pointers from DiNozzo are paying off."

"Honestly, Gibbs. My grammar is fine. It's all your idioms that drive me up the wall."

"You got that one right, at least." He unlocked the car, noting her thoughtful expression as she got in and buckled her seatbelt. "Something else?"

"I was just wondering why a dentist has a dish of candy in his office."

He smiled as he started the engine. "Good for business, I guess."


	4. Chapter 4

Tony found that the most efficient way to move while handcuffed to an office chair was to remain seated, push with his feet and glide backward as far as his momentum would take him. As he left the bathroom, he wondered if Gibbs had considered all the implications of leaving him chained to his chair. Knowing Gibbs, he probably had.

The chair stopped abruptly, mid-glide. Tony turned to offer an apology to the unlucky office minion with whom he had collided this time, but was chagrined to find Director Shepard looking down at him. He attempted to stand, but his restrained left wrist prevented him from straightening fully. He managed to slouch at an angle that at least brought him to her eye level. "Ma'am, I can assure that I have a really, really good explanation for this."

She gave him an appraising look. "I'd love to hear it, Special Agent DiNozzo."

"Well, Ziva and I were…" he stopped as Shepard held up a hand.

"I've known Ziva long enough to figure out where this is going. It is a good method for learning how to get out of a pair of handcuffs. I'll give you a few pointers if she hasn't unlocked you by six." She stepped around his chair, walking to the stairs. "Good luck, Tony."

He sank into his seat, mumbling, "Yeah, thanks…for nothing."

"Oh, really, Tony." He tried not to yelp as Ziva unexpectedly pulled him toward his desk. "I think that was a nice offer on Jen's part."

He held his feet off the floor and allowed her to drag him. "How do you get away with all this stuff? If I handcuffed _you_ to your chair…"

"She'd be out in less than thirty seconds." Gibbs sat behind his desk, a fresh coffee in his hand. "You find anything in the dead girl's phone records?"

"Right, boss." Tony frowned at Ziva, who was now sitting on the edge of his desk. Turning his attention to his computer, he glanced over the screen. "Almost all her calls from her home phone went to work, a pizza place or a Chinese restaurant, with the occasional long-distance call to California. Her cell phone, however, made and received calls from only one number, another cell phone," he paused, tapping at his keyboard. He pointed at the picture he'd displayed on the plasma. "Meet Dr. Phillip Lansing."

"We already have. Looks like your hunch was right, Ziva."

"Shocking he didn't mention he was having an affair with our dead petty officer."

Tony cleared his throat. "Anybody wanna fill me in?"

"Only if you're done sharing your four hours worth of work with us." Gibbs looked at him critically.

"Uh, not at all, boss. I also tracked down her credit cards and found that she purchased groceries at a market around the corner from her house less than an hour before she died. McGee is at the store right now picking up their security footage and talking to, uh, grocery people."

"He get anything off her computer?"

"Just that she really liked online shopping and Broadway show tunes."

"What about prints and ballistics?"

"Abby hasn't called yet. McGee said she was kinda swamped at the moment."

Gibbs dropped his empty coffee cup into the trash and walked toward the elevator.

Tony looked at Ziva, still perched on his desk. "Why is it when we don't produce results we get smacked upside the head, but when Abby doesn't she gets a Caf-Pow?"

She shrugged. "No idea. Maybe you should ask him."

"Yeah, because I'd really love to be handcuffed to both arms of my chair." He moved his right hand toward the back pocket of Ziva's jeans, silently cursing as she suddenly stood and walked to her own desk.

She unzipped the front pouch of her backpack and pulled out the small silver keys to the cuffs. With an evil grin she said, "I guess I should put these back in my pocket so you won't be attempting to duck me for no reason."

"Goose," he corrected. He watched her put the keys back into the pocket they'd occupied earlier and pondered whether his life was worth making a grab for them.


	5. Chapter 5

Despite the loud music in the lab, Abby heard a familiar slushy-ice-against-plastic noise. "Gibbs! Just when I thought I'd have to brave the elements myself!" She grabbed the Caf-Pow from his outstretched hand and took a long sip.

Gibbs glanced toward the windows. "It's a nice day out, Abs."

"Yes, a nice _Saturday_, Gibbs. If I went outside and realized that, there's very little chance that I'd come back to tell you about all the vital evidence I've analyzed."

He gave her a wry smile. "You get any hits on those fingerprints?"

"I did. Guess how many." She swung her shoulders back and forth, taking another long drink.

His response was to take the Caf-Pow from her hand and hold it at arm's length.

"You're no fun anymore, Gibbs." She tapped her keyboard. "We've got a plethora of prints from our victim, but we should expect that with it being her house and all. Her prints were the only ones on the gun, ammo and lockbox."

He placed the Caf-Pow on the edge of the desk, still out of her reach. "The gun we found isn't the murder weapon. It was never fired and wasn't even loaded."

"And it wasn't registered to Petty Officer Healey. It was purchased five years ago in New York by…"

"Sheila Andrews," Gibbs interrupted, staring at the photo on the computer screen. "We met her at the dental clinic this morning. I don't believe she mentioned giving our victim a gun."

"Maybe for the same reason she didn't mention that she was at the petty officer's house at some point in the recent past," Abby replied, smirking. "Her prints were on the handle of the back door and the footprint McGee found is a ladies' size seven. Her prints were also on the rear fence where McGee found the piece of blue fabric, which is from a standard pair of medical scrubs."

Gibbs walked toward the elevator, taking the Caf-Pow with him. "Looks like Ziva and I are headed back to Bethesda."

"No, Gibbs!" she shouted. He turned, raising his eyebrows expectantly. "I mean, you can't leave yet because I'm not finished sharing my evidence smorgasbord, although going back to Bethesda is probably a good idea at this point, because I also found," she paused as she brought up another photo, "Dr. Phillip Lansing's prints in the bedroom, bathroom and kitchen. He's a dentist…"

"At Bethesda. Yeah, we met him too, Abs." Gibbs was leaning against the desk again, but was keeping a firm grip on the Caf-Pow. Abby narrowed her eyes as he sipped his coffee.

"And he didn't mention he'd been at Healey's house either, I take it?" she asked, trying to focus on her computer. "That could have something to do with the fact that he's married. Tony was clever enough to bag the sheets at the scene and I'm running a DNA sample I found on them, so we'll be able to confirm whether or not Dr. Teeth was there just to supervise her good flossing habits."

"Dr. Teeth?"

"Yeah, he's a dentist and he kinda looks like the saxophone player from the Electric Mayhem and I know Dr. Teeth played the keyboards but…"

"Abs…"

She ignored the impatience in his tone, continuing, "Muppets, Gibbs. They were the band…"

"Abs!" He caught her attention by holding her Caf-Pow over the garbage can. "Do you have anything else?"

"Yes! The bullet they pulled from the wall was too damaged to look at the striations, so I won't be able to compare it to anything even if you find the gun, but I did pull a print from the shell casing."

"And?"

"It matches prints from the front door and the kitchen."

"Whose prints?"

"I don't know. They're not in the system." She reached toward him and pouted. He surrendered the Caf-Pow before heading to the elevator.

His voice drifted through the elevator doors before they closed, "Good work, Abs."

Abby took a gratifying sip of her Caf-Pow, before going back to her computer. "And to think my guidance counselor suggested I become a dental hygienist."


	6. Chapter 6

McGee grunted and grabbed the back of his head where he had just smacked it on the doorframe. He stood and quickly looked around the parking lot to make sure no one had seen. Sighing with relief, he bent into the back seat again to retrieve the box he'd brought from the market.

"McGee!" He hastily tried to stand as Gibbs called his name and hit his head again. "You get the security footage?"

"Yeah, boss." McGee rubbed the back of his head, convinced he could feel a large bump forming. Gibbs hadn't seemed to notice his discomfort, but at least Ziva was giving him a sympathetic look. Or maybe it was pity. It was probably pity.

Gibbs headed to his own car, still oblivious. "Then why are you standing around out here? Bring it to Abby."

"There's a little problem, boss…" McGee protested.

"Yeah, you're still standing out here instead of taking the tape inside." Gibbs was getting into his own car before McGee had a chance to reply. He glanced at Ziva, who kissed her fingertips and gently touched the back of his head before joining Gibbs in the car. McGee stood watching them speed away, feeling like a little kid. He sighed, grabbed the box from the back seat and headed into the building.

In the elevator his finger hovered over the button that would take him downstairs to the lab. Instead, he opted to stop in the squad room first.

Tony was seated at his desk, left hand in his lap. He looked up as McGee entered. "Well, Probie, it was thoughtful of you to bring a box of Xerox paper up, but I thought you were supposed to be out picking up a tape of security footage from our victim's last purchase."

"And I thought you were supposed to getting out of those handcuffs." McGee placed the box on his desk and removed his coat as Tony tried to formulate a comeback.

He tugged at the chain, rattling it against the arm of his chair. "Y'know, they're not _supposed_ to be easy to get out of. That's why they use them on criminals."

The pain in the back of McGee's head seemed to lessen the more he watched Tony struggle with the cuffs. He picked up his box and walked toward the elevator. "I'll just take these down to Abby."

"Probie, wait up!" He turned to see Tony scooting after him. "What's in the box, anyway?"

McGee lifted the cardboard lid, revealing several stacks of videotapes. "They don't label their footage. The security guy assured me Friday afternoon is in here somewhere. It's just a matter of finding it."

Tony paused before entering the elevator. "As entertaining as that sounds…" He turned to look around the squad room. "No, I'd better come down to the lab with you."

"Afraid Abby and I will miss something?"

"No, I'm just sick of all the pointing and laughing up here."

"Maybe Ziva has an extra set of keys in her desk," McGee suggested, trying not to laugh as the elevator descended.

"Yeah, 'cos I didn't think of that the second she left this morning." He shook his head. "If I want the keys I'm gonna have to get them from her. Maybe if you held her down…"

McGee briefly reflected on the consequences of such an action. "I don't think so."

"C'mon, Probie." They exited the elevator and went into the lab. "I'm sure Abby will help you."

"Help him with what?" Abby cocked her head as she considered Tony. "Why are you handcuffed to your chair? Did I miss something fun? Again?"

"Not exactly," Tony replied, smiling through clenched teeth.

She turned to McGee. "Well Timmy?"

"He was irritating Ziva this morning and…"

"He's been cuffed to his chair all day and you didn't tell me?" She swatted McGee's shoulder. "Does Gibbs know?"

"Oh, he knows," Tony said. "Can we forget that I'm chained to my chair and get on with analyzing the tapes?"

"Don't feel bad, Tony. I once woke up in the dog house, complete with choke collar and chain. I had fleas for, like, a month afterwards." Abby sighed with contentment. "God, I miss elementary school sometimes."

Tony and McGee shared a look, silently agreeing not to say anything. Tony rapped his fist on the lid of the box. "We should really get to that video, Abs. Gibbs will be expecting something by the time he gets back from Bethesda with our suspects."

Abby popped the first tape into the VCR. "Let's see who's cuckoo for Coco Puffs."


	7. Chapter 7

Ziva sat in the back seat between Dr. Lansing, who was sweating profusely and constantly fidgeting with his glasses, and Sheila Andrews, who kept picking imaginary pieces of lint off her light green scrubs. Gibbs had ordered the two suspects not to speak to each other and Ziva, not being one to engage in pleasantries about the weather or local sports teams, was focusing on staying silent. She let out a long breath as they entered the Navy yard; she couldn't imagine Lansing's glasses ever being cleaner than they were after the car ride.

Gibbs parked in their lot and opened the car door on Lansing's side, taking the dentist by the arm. "Ziva, would you have Miss Andrews wait in the conference room with an officer while I take Dr. Lansing to interrogation?"

"Interrogation?" The doctor's eyes grew huge, magnified even more by his glasses.

"It's not as bad as it sounds." Gibbs seized Lansing's elbow and led him toward the building while Ziva followed after collecting her backpack and Sheila Andrews.

As they waited for the elevator, Ziva asked, "Do you want me to…?"

"Yes," Gibbs answered, not needing to hear the full question to know what she was asking. "Have DiNozzo join you."

Ziva nodded in response. She led Sheila Andrews through the squad room, stopping at her desk to stow her gear. She noted with some satisfaction that while Tony wasn't at his desk, neither was his chair. In the conference room, she asked, "Can I get you anything while you're waiting? Water?"

Andrews stared into the polished surface of the conference table. "No, thank you." Ziva nodded to the probie she had recruited to watch the woman and carefully closed the door. "Wait?" She poked her head back into the room. "Am I in trouble?"

"I really can't discuss it with you right now."

"No, please." There was something insistent in the woman's tone that prevented Ziva from shutting the door again. "I didn't hurt Liz."

"Then what are you worried about?"

"I think there may be some reasons you think I did."

"I suggest you explain them to Agent Gibbs when you speak with him." She ignored further protests for attention and closed the door softly but firmly. Were she to place all her reliance on her gut, she would have to say that Andrews was telling the truth. Pushing a lock of hair behind her ear and forgoing any further thought on the woman's veracity, she walked back to her desk to pick up the two file folders on their suspects before going back to the elevator.

She arrived at the lab to the sound of Abby, mid-rant, "…disgusting. All high fructose corn syrup and synthetic chemicals. I don't even know if anything that guy bought could even be considered food!"

"I actually like those squishy fruit snack things."

"And it shows, Probie."

Ziva grinned as she saw that Tony was still firmly attached to his chair. "Are you three having fun shopping vicariously?" The trio turned to look at her. She held Tony's gaze slightly longer than necessary as she surreptitiously slipped her hand into her back pocket, turning her body just enough for him to see the keys before pushing them back down.

Aware of but ignoring the action, Abby pointed to the screen. "We've watched, like, a weeks' worth of people buying groceries and found that only one in five buys vegetables, while one in three buys sugary cereal or candy. Oh, and almost everyone reads the tabloid headlines while they're in line."

"Fascinating," Ziva nodded in a way that indicated she was less than fascinated, "but why didn't you just watch the footage from yesterday afternoon?"

"Why didn't we think of that?" Abby smacked her head dramatically.

McGee stepped between the two women, who were now exchanging sarcastic looks. In his peripheral vision, he could see Tony rolling around the opposite side of the desk, trying to sneak behind Ziva while she was distracted. He tried not to give Tony away by looking at him as he said, "Gibbs didn't give me a chance to explain in the parking lot, but the store didn't label or organize its tapes, so it's taking us longer to find Petty Officer Healey on them."

"Aah. Well, can I steal Tony?" She reached behind her and grabbed his fingers, mere inches from her pocket.

"Damn," he cursed and attempted to pull his hand from her grasp.

She swung him by his wrist and sent him flying across the lab. She spoke to Abby and McGee, "Gibbs wants him in Observation with me while he chats with our dentist and hygienist."

Tony glided back across the tile floor, preventing himself from colliding with Ziva by bracing his hands on her hips. "Did he mention anything about, oh, I don't know, _uncuffing_ me?"

She deposited the file folders she was holding in his lap, grabbed the back of his chair and pulled him out of the lab. "I promise I'll let you out before I go home. If you're a good boy, that is." The pair had disappeared around the corner when McGee and Abby heard a slap. "And stay away from my pockets."

McGee turned to Abby, explaining, "She's got the key in her back pocket."

"And here I thought it was just Tony's uncontrollable urge to play grab-ass with an assassin." Abby shook her head and continued looking toward the door long they'd left. "Well, that's gonna set off a whole new cycle of nightmares. And to think that one involving the lederhosen just stopped last week. I wish they'd leave their kinky sex games out of the office"

"Abby, they're not…I mean, you don't think they really…rule number twelve," McGee finished lamely.

"Seriously, Timmy, I'm at the point where every time I pass the broom closet I expect them to come tumbling out all half-dressed and disheveled."

He pressed his lips together. "Tony maybe. Ziva would be smart enough to wait until no one was in the hallway."

"McGee, don't make me Gibbs-slap you."

"Right." He pressed eject then put a fresh tape in the VCR. "Maybe this will be lucky number fifteen."

Abby wasn't watching the screen. "It's the staring. No matter who's talking or what's being said they're always staring at each other. Could you reasonably stare at another person that long and that intensely and claim you were just friends?"

"I…really, uh," McGee paused to consider the question. He decided the safest course of action was to change the subject. "I think we should get back to the video."

"Cop-out, McGee." She didn't press further, however. She just pressed play. "Let the parade of artificial sweeteners recommence!"


	8. Chapter 8

Tony and Ziva stared into the interrogation room. He was actually staring at his own vague reflection in the smoky glass of the two-way mirror. He decided it was the height difference that was really bothering him. She was almost a foot and a half taller than him when she was standing and he was sitting. He looked like her tiny little elf in the mirror. His mind reflexively started constructing a weird role-playing scenario that was held up by the fact that she didn't know much about the Santa Claus/elf relationship. He'd just recast her as a young Mrs. Claus when she interrupted his fantasy.

She was using his head as an armrest, her hand hanging in his face. He turned his head and found that, given the thoughts he'd just been entertaining, she was really much, much too close for comfort. He pushed her arm off with an exasperated groan, "What am I, furniture?"

Unflustered, she settled her arm in its former position. "For all the attention you've been paying, you may as well be."

He didn't like the knowing look she gave him. "Hey, I've been concentrating."

"Oh, I never accused you of not concentrating." They watched in silence for a minute. Lansing was crying, his face red and contorted.

"We already know he didn't do it. You told me on the way from the lab that you confirmed from several sources he was at the dental clinic at the time of the murder. Why is Gibbs making him cry?"

"Lansing got the fireworks going all on his own." She looked at him disapprovingly. "I knew you weren't paying attention."

"It's waterworks, Zee-vah." He waited, but she didn't elaborate. "Could you, maybe, fill me in?"

"He has an alibi for the murder, yes, but Gibbs is in the process of obtaining an account of what was he doing on Thursday night."

"What difference does that make? Healey was murdered on Friday afternoon and he didn't do it. Thanks for your time, Doctor, have a pleasant afternoon. Next suspect."

She rolled her eyes. "If you'd been listening, you'd know that he was having sex with Petty Officer Healey."

His head snapped around to look at her. "Whoa. How'd I not hear that one?"

"He described it as 'making love,' so it's no surprise it didn't register with you."

He tried to read her tone or expression, but found them equally blank. "And he's married, so…we should be looking at the wife?"

"She has been out of town on business since last Wednesday."

"She could have come back…"

"From Botswana? There'd be a record. And there isn't."

"Huh. I wonder what kind of business sends you on a trip to Botswana?"

She threw up her hands. "Does it make a difference? She's in Africa. That's a pretty good alibi."

He peered through the glass at the weeping dentist. "I doubt he's worth killing over, anyway."

Gibbs was giving them a significant look through the mirror. "Looks like Gibbs is done with him." Ziva picked up the phone. "This is Officer David. Yes, bring her down, please."

Tony waited while Ziva escorted Dr. Lansing out of the building. The probie who had been watching Sheila Andrews had arrived and deposited the woman in the room with Gibbs, and both were sitting silently. Tony kept his eyes on the woman seated in interrogation as he heard Ziva reenter the room. "Think Gibbs will get her to confess without ever asking a question?"

Ziva resumed her position, arm again resting on Tony's head. "She told me there are reasons we'll think she murdered the petty officer."

"She mention what they were?"

"I told her to save it for Gibbs."

"Sssh. Five minutes, no questions and away we go." The pair fell silent as Sheila Andrews began speaking, unprompted.

"I know you think I killed Liz, but that just isn't true." She appeared to wait for Gibbs to respond. "I admit that I was there on Thursday night, but I didn't find what I expected to." She again waited. "Look, about two months ago, I gave Liz a gun I bought a few years ago. She told me that there'd been some break-ins in her neighborhood, and I had my doubts, because she lived in a pretty nice area, but I didn't need the gun, so I gave it to her."

Gibbs continued reading, not looking up. He finally nodded. "What size shoe do you wear?"

Andrews seemed confused. "A seven. Why?"

"And when was the last time you were in Petty Officer Healey's house?"

She swallowed several times in rapid succession. Her answer was hardly above a whisper. "Thursday night."

Behind the mirror, Tony scoffed, "Oh, you've gotta be kidding me. Dental orgy?" Ziva shifted her arm so her elbow dug into his skull for a moment. "Ow. Just saying…"

In Interrogation, Andrews was speaking again. "On Thursday morning I heard Liz and Dr. Lansing talking about meeting later at her house. When they saw me, they stopped talking. Dr. Lansing told me to forget what I'd heard. I-I thought it had something to do with the missing equipment at the clinic."

"You thought you'd stumbled on a dental equipment theft ring?"

"Well, why else would she have wanted a gun right around the time the robberies at the clinic started? I didn't have any proof, so I couldn't just start making accusations. I certainly didn't suspect what I actually found." She nervously wrung her hands. "I went to Liz's house. I knew she left her back door unlocked, so I just walked in. I caught them having sex."

"Dr. Lansing didn't mention that."

"I don't think they saw me. I didn't exactly stay to watch. I went right out the back door, hopped the fence and went back to my car."

The door of Observation suddenly slammed against the wall as McGee burst into the room. "You guys are not going to believe this." He pushed a video into the VCR and pressed play. Tony and Ziva stared blankly at the screen, both needing a moment for the image to register.

"But that's…" Tony trailed off.

McGee nodded excitedly. "Yeah."

"Swish," Ziva whispered, tapping on the glass to let Gibbs know they had something new.


	9. Chapter 9

Gibbs' annoyance was clear as he entered Observation. "You three better have a damn good reason for interrupting me."

"This is the definition of good reason." Tony flinched in anticipation of the slap that never came.

Gibbs was instead staring at the frozen image on the TV screen. "Isn't that one of the basketball kids from the house next to Healey's?"

"Duke sweatshirt, boss." Gibbs exited the room on his way to the elevator. Tony continued to talk as Ziva towed him. "Name's Thomas Perkins. McGee already called for a warrant to search his house."

As the group stepped into the elevator, Gibbs paused. "Is there anything else on that tape I need to see?"

McGee summarized, "He makes a purchase, candy or gum or something at the express checkout. It looks like Healey calls him over as he's walking past her checkout counter. He picks up a couple of her bags and they leave. Her credit card logged the purchase at 2:32 PM. We enhanced the clock over the lottery counter and it confirms that they were there just after 2:30."

"So, she sees her neighbor and offers him a ride home in exchange for helping her with her groceries?"

"That's a good theory, except you took a statement from the kid that says he got off the school bus at quarter of four."

"Guess he lied, boss." Tony could see Gibbs' stormy expression clearly as Ziva pulled him toward their desks. He was glad the back of his head was facing the wrong direction.

"Ya think, DiNozzo?"

Tony called up a search program on his computer. "I'll call the bus company, get in touch with his bus driver."

"Call from the car. We're going to that kid's house now."

"All of us?"

Gibbs didn't look up as he checked his weapon before clipping it to his belt. "Yeah."

"So, uh, boss? That includes me?" Tony jangled his cuffs against the arm of his chair.

Gibbs waved vaguely in his direction. "Let him out, Ziva."

Tony grinned smugly as she approached and leaned over him. Using her lock picks, she released the catch on the cuffs. He immediately jumped out of the chair, almost knocking her over in the process. He windmilled his left arm, enjoying the freedom of movement. He took a few long strides across the bullpen when he noticed that everyone was waiting for him at the elevator. "Right!" He grabbed his gear and joined them. Standing next to Ziva in the elevator, he was happy to note that he was once again taller.

She noticed him staring. "What?"

He tried not to enjoy the fact that she was now looking up when she spoke to him and instead asked, "How come you didn't use the keys to let me out?"

"Guess I just wanted to show off." The beaming smile that accompanied her words was enough to put him on his guard. He suddenly felt like he was looking up at her again.

She seemed to be willing to concede some ground to him, however. "Do you want to ride gun shot, Tony?"

"I think you mean shotgun. And yes, I would." She waved him off in annoyance as he settled himself in the front seat and grinned at Gibbs. "DJ DiNozzo, boss?"

"Aren't you supposed to be confirming something with the school bus driver?" Tony grimaced as he pulled out his cell phone. Gibbs peeled out of the parking lot. "I knew there was a reason I never got that radio fixed."

* * *

Gibbs swerved to avoid a turtle making its way across the road. Ziva didn't allow the sudden lurch in her stomach to distract her. "I'm just saying that I could fire a shotgun just as effectively from the back seat as I could from the front."

Tony twisted in his seat to partially face her. "First of all, I would never want to be involved in a situation that involved you…in a car…with a shotgun. Second, 'riding shotgun,'" he mentally smacked himself for using air quotes, "has a historical precedent."

"Which is?"

"Uh…"

"Stagecoach drivers used to have a guy ride on the box with them with a shotgun to fight off robbers." Gibbs came inches from running over the curb as he turned onto Healey's street. "We're here. PD's late."

"You learn that on the History Channel, boss?"

"Nope._ Gunsmoke_."

"We gonna wait?" Tony turned his head to look up the empty street.

"Nope." Gibbs got out of the car and strode up the front walk of Perkins' house.

Tony followed, responding to Ziva's questioning look, "Classic American TV show. Little before my time, but you can catch it on TVLand if you're interested."

She nodded abstractly as she tried to peer through the front windows. "It doesn't appear that anyone is home."

"It's a nice Saturday," McGee added. "They could be back in a few minutes or a few hours."

"Why wait?" Ziva walked to the door and tried the knob. It swung open. "Good thing we've got a warrant." She followed Gibbs into the foyer. "Is it common for Americans to leave their doors unlocked when they're away from home?"

"Only if they're forgetful. Or morons." Tony checked his pocket and was relieved to find he'd remembered gloves. "Hope they don't have a vicious Doberman. Coming, Probie?"

McGee was still standing in the walkway, squinting at something the three agents in the house could not see. Tony stepped back outside to see what McGee was so interested in. "Uh, boss? Has Healey's house been cleared yet?"

"Do you see the crime scene tape, DiNozzo?"

"Yeah, boss. That's why I'm confused that I just saw someone moving in the bedroom window."

Gibbs nodded and pulled his gun from its holster. "Ziva, McGee, take the back. DiNozzo, with me."

"On your six, boss." Tony watched Ziva and McGee circle the house as he moved to the front door with Gibbs. They ducked under the yellow tape and entered the dark living room. He sensed movement near the back of the kitchen and raised his gun. It was Ziva, having just entered from the back. Tony maintained his pose for a moment before lowering his gun and grinning. He didn't catch her silent response as Gibbs plucked his sleeve and jerked his thumb toward the bedroom down the hall.

They quickly cleared the office and guest bedroom before moving to the master bedroom. Ziva had taken up a position at the end of the hall, ready to cover any potential escape.

Gibbs pushed the bedroom door open, sweeping the room with his gun. Tony silently moved to the left to clear the bathroom. He shook his head at Gibbs to indicate he'd found nothing. Gibbs pointed to the closet, grasping the knob as Tony leveled his weapon. Gibbs nodded three times, yanking the door open on the third. "NCIS!"

Standing in the closet was Thomas Perkins, a small pile of jewelry clutched in his hands. He made a feeble attempt to push past Gibbs, who tripped him up easily, pressing the boy to the floor. "Robbing a crime scene? How did any part of that seem like a good idea to you?"

The boy continued to fight weakly. "I'm gonna get a lawyer that'll have your badge for assaulting me!"

Gibbs didn't bother to point out the fallacies in the boy's logic. "DiNozzo, cuffs."

Tony reached to the back of his belt, but found the clip that normally held his cuffs empty. He checked his pockets, but found nothing. "Sorry, boss. Left them at the office, I guess."

Gibbs caught a pair lobbed at him from the door. Ziva glanced at Tony before saying, "The rest of the house is clear. Bethesda PD has arrived and McGee's gone next door."

"I thought your cuffs were still hanging off the arm of my chair."

She rolled her eyes. "I have more than one set. Unlike you, apparently."

Gibbs hauled the boy to his feet. "Take him to the car."

Tony seized Perkins' elbow, surprised by how thin and scrawny his arm felt. It was hardly what one would expect of the arm of a killer. The boy tried to pull away as they walked to the front door. Ziva grabbed his other arm. "Need some help, Tony?"

"Thanks, but I think I can manage a kid," he replied, pressing Perkins forward. He blinked as he walked into the sunlight and stopped just outside the doorway. She collided with his back.

"Watch it!"

"Hey, you ran into me."

"You just stopped short."

"Is that what you tell people after rear-ending them?"

"Both of you," Gibbs interrupted, exiting the house, "take him and put him in a squad car with local PD, then meet me over there to search his house."

Tony had almost forgotten that he was holding Perkins' arm. The boy was suddenly trying to pull away with greater urgency. Ziva caught his other arm, holding him fast.

The reason for his unexpected exertion became apparent as McGee was crossing the lawn holding two plastic bags. He held up the first. ".38, recently fired, wrapped in," he paused as he held up the second bag, "blue scrubs I pulled out of the laundry hamper. There's some blood splatter on them."

Perkins continued to struggle in earnest against the agents. "My dad's a surgical nurse. He's got a ton of scrubs with blood on 'em."

"Not with Petty Officer Healey's blood on them. You should watch more TV; then you'd know how easy it's gonna be to prove that and convict you."

The boy stopped trying to get away and twisted to look at Tony, hatred etched into his features. "Bitch owed me."

"How does a Naval dental hygienist rack up a bill with a twelve year old?"

"I'm fifteen, asshole!"

"Oh, good. They can try you as an adult in that case. Watch your head." He shoved the boy into the back of their car. He saw Ziva watching him over the car roof. "I hate kids."


	10. Chapter 10

It was now dark enough outside that the only thing visible in the large plate glass windows was a reflection of the squad room. Tony checked his watch. It was just after ten. Despite the objections of his lawyer, Thomas Perkins had given a full confession several hours before.

Standing with Tony and Ziva in Observation, McGee had been appalled. "He murdered his neighbor to prevent her from telling anyone he ditched school?"

Ziva shook her head. "It sounds as if that was just his breaking point, if you can reasonably call that a breaking point. Is that lawyer serious about the blackmail thing?"

"They could make a case of it. His father said that he was shipping the kid off to military school if he got into any more trouble in school. They could make the argument that he was so scared of that that he snapped and killed the petty officer."

"And they'll probably try to blame it on violent television shows and video games," McGee added.

"We can't all be elf lords, Probie."

"You can't convince me that would stand up in court."

"Good old American justice, Zee-vah. Of course, he did go back to rob the house after he murdered Healey, so a jury would probably be less sympathetic."

They'd spent most of the rest of the day discussing the boy's motives as they completed the necessary paperwork. Wanting a break from the endless papers, Tony began another search of his desk.

Gibbs suddenly stood. "I'm going for coffee. Those forms better be filed by the time I get back. Something wrong, DiNozzo?"

"No, boss." Tony rummaged through his bottom desk drawer again. "I just can't figure out what I did with my cuffs."

"They're right there."

"Where?"

"Hanging from your armrest."

"No, those are Ziva's." He stared at his partner, who appeared to be trying very hard not to laugh.

Gibbs continued toward the elevator. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"He didn't really mean…" Tony's confused expression was enough to send Ziva into hysterics. "What the hell is going on?"

Ziva responded between barks of laughter. "I took your cuffs four days ago. I've been waiting for you to notice. This morning I just…" she trailed off in another fit of giggles.

"But I had the keys to these in my desk the whole time…" Tony's jaw went slack as he realized what had happened. "I could have unlocked these at any time."

Still overcome by laughter, she could only nod.

Tony walked to her desk and squatted in front of her, balancing himself on the arms of her chair. "I am going to get back at you for this. I don't know how, I don't know when, but I am going to get you, Ziva David."

She patted his cheek twice, letting her hand linger after the second. She let out a low laugh from somewhere deep in her chest as she leaned toward him. "Oh, I look forward to it."

A/n: Aaaaand, cut. Scene. Print it. Thanks to all readers, and double thanks to those who also count themselves reviewers.


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